training
The woman leads Ruby to the box. She places an apple inside. “Good girl, Ruby,” she says kindly. “Don’t be afraid.”
Ruby inspects the box with her trunk. The woman makes a clicking sound with a little piece of metal she is holding in her hand. She gives Ruby a piece of carrot.
Each time Ruby touches the box, she gets a click and a treat.
“Why is she making that clicking noise?” I ask Bob.
“They do that to dogs all the time,” Bob says. I can tell he doesn’t approve. “It’s called clicker training. They want Ruby to associate the noise with the treat. When she does something they want, they make that noise.”
“Great job, Ruby,” the woman says. “You’re a quick study.”
After many clicks and carrots, she takes Ruby back to her cage.
“Why is that lady giving me carrots when I touch the box?” Ruby asks me.
“I think she wants you to go inside,” I explain.
“But there’s nothing inside,” Ruby says, “except an apple.”
“Inside that box,” I say, “is the way out.”
Ruby tilts her head. “I don’t get it.”
“See the picture of the red giraffe on the box? I think the lady is from the zoo, Ruby. I think she’s getting ready to take you there.”
I wait for Ruby to trumpet with joy, but instead she just stares at the box in silence.
“I’m not sure you understand. That box might be taking you to a place where there are other elephants,” I say. “A place with more room, and humans who care about you.”
But even as I say these words, I remember with a shudder the last box I was in.
“I don’t want a zoo,” Ruby says. “I want you and Bob and Julia. This is my home.”
“No, Ruby,” I say. “This is your prison.”